(20) [Marsk Stig: 1913]
Marsk Stig / A Ballad / By / George Borrow / London: / Printed for Private Circulation / 1913.
Collation:—Crown octavo, pp. 40; consisting of: Half-title (with blank reverse) pp. 1–2; Title-page, as above (with blank reverse) pp. 3–4; and Text of the Ballad pp. 5–40. The head-line is Marsk Stig throughout, upon both sides of the page. At the foot of p. 40 is the following imprint, “London: / Printed for Thomas J. Wise, Hampstead, N.W. / Edition limited to Thirty Copies.” The signatures are A (a half-sheet of 4 leaves), plus B and C (2 sheets, each 8 leaves), inset within each other.
Issued in bright green paper wrappers, with untrimmed edges, and with the title-page reproduced upon the front. The leaves measure 7½ × 5 inches.
Thirty Copies only were printed.
Marsk Stig consists of four separate Ballads, or Songs as Borrow styled them, the whole forming one complete and connected story. The plot is an old Danish legend of the same character as the history of David and Bathsheba, Marsk Stig himself being the counterpart of Uriah the Hittite.
The four Songs commence as follows:—
| page | |
| 1. Marsk Stig he out of the country rode To win him fame with his good bright sword | 5 |
| 2. Marsk Stig he woke at black midnight, And loudly cried to his Lady dear | 15 |
| 3. There’s many I ween in Denmark
green Who all to be masters now desire | 23 |
| 4. There were seven and seven times twenty That met upon the verdant wold | 34 |
Marsk Stig was one of the ballads prepared by Borrow for The Songs of Scandinavia in 1829, and revised for the Kœmpe Viser in 1854. Both Manuscripts are extant, and I give reproductions of a page of each. It will be observed that upon the margins of the earlier Manuscript Borrow wrote his revisions, so that this Manuscript practically carries in itself both versions of the ballad. The Manuscript of 1829 is in the possession of Mr. J. H. Spoor, of Chicago. The Manuscript of 1854 is in my own library. As a specimen of Marsk Stig I quote the following stanzas:
It was the young and bold Marsk Stig
Came riding into the Castle yard,
Abroad did stand the King of the land
So fair array’d in sable and mard.“Now lend an ear, young Marshal Stig,
I have for thee a fair emprise,
Ride thou this year to the war and bear
My flag amongst my enemies.”“And if I shall fare to the war this year,
And risk my life among thy foes,
Do thou take care of my Lady dear,
Of Ingeborg, that beauteous rose.”Then answer’d Erik, the youthful King,
With a laugh in his sleeve thus answered he:
“No more I swear has thy lady to fear
Than if my sister dear were she.”It was then the bold Sir Marshal Stig,
From out of the country he did depart,
In her castle sate his lonely mate,
Fair Ingeborg, with grief at heart.“Now saddle my steed,” cried Eric the King,
“Now saddle my steed,” King Eric cried,
“To visit the Dame of beauteous fame
Your King will into the country ride.”* * * * *
“Now list, now list, Dame Ingeborg,
Thou art, I swear, a beauteous star,
Live thou with me in love and glee,
Whilst Marshal Stig is engag’d in war.”Then up and spake Dame Ingeborg,
For nought was she but a virtuous wife:
“Rather, I say, than Stig betray,
Sir King, I’d gladly lose my life.”“Give ear, thou proud Dame Ingeborg,
If thou my leman and love will be,
Each finger fair of thy hand shall bear
A ring of gold so red of blee.”“Marsk Stig has given gold rings to me,
And pearls around my neck to string;
By the Saints above I never will prove
Untrue to the Marshal’s couch, Sir King.”* * * * *
It was Erik the Danish King,
A damnable deed the King he wrought;
He forc’d with might that Lady bright,
Whilst her good Lord his battles fought.* * * * *
It was the young Sir Marshal Stig
Stepp’d proudly in at the lofty door;
And bold knights then, and bold knight’s men,
Stood up the Marshal Stig before.So up to the King of the land he goes,
And straight to make his plaint began;
Then murmured loud the assembled crowd,
And clench’d his fist each honest man.“Ye good men hear a tale of fear,
A tale of horror, a tale of hell—&c., &c.
There is a copy of Marsk Stig A Ballad in the Library of the British Museum. The Press-mark is C. 44. d. 38.
